Inchy Today: Sat 28 June 2025: What a days end!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Off to the wet room for a wash and an ablution,
The Porcelain Throne movement was liquidy…
I went to get my anti-diuretic medication,
Opening the drawer, it was a little sticky…
Which held medicines non-prescription,
Taking the box, I went a little dizzy,
Got myself in some confusion,
Trapped my hand, getting a contusion,
A scratch, a bruise, a tiny abrasion, 
Carer Manpreet put on some cream,
And I began to think and dream…
Of the world’s upcoming desolation,
Will Hell or Heaven be awaiting…
Which will lambast us for self-annihilating?
Will we see Heaven or Hell’s disintegration?
117 billion  people have lived on this Earth,
That’s a lot of dead souls. Which were worthy?
How did they get through the gates so pearly?
Adam & Eve, they must have arrived early?
Are their souls with mammoths & anacondas?
Will the Grim Reaper take souls from Pure Cremation?
Are the Reapers from the unknown Hell or Heaven?
Hell’s interviewers assess your suitability for entry?
Oligarchs, Hitler, Stalin, Putin, Trump, & Göring get there?
Along with Starmer & Blair, the backhander taking pair,
Oligarchs, they’ll take over Hell’s agenda,
But we who are currently breathing air…
Will never know if anyone is out there!
I know it was pointless being a Brexiteer,
But the end commeth, but no need to fear!
Although at first, things will seem a little queer…
No body, brain, cataracts, no mouth to drink beer,
No sight, hearing, or need for ablutional passing,
No murdering, wars, revolutions or farting,
Nothing to need fearing, authorising or appraising,
You may not even know, after passing…
No more eating, washing, or inequality,
Rent, electricity, or food prices are rising!
No appealling bodies, for wanting or screwing,
No hours lost constipating,
No corrupting, counterfeiting, courting, or coveting, Canyoneering, chauffeuring, or cheering,
Women, no childbearing, catering, or censoring,
No cleaning, coiffuring, nail polishing,
Or anyone to give a bollocking tongue-lashing!
Aristotle said we may still be dreaming.
I think life may have been spent part-time musing,
While waiting for the inevitable ending?
Still, this is not a sad message that I’m sending,
I’d love to know if this thought is trending,
Hopefully, peace will flow, even if we don’t know…
And nothing worth commemorating!
One final thing that I would like to mention…
Ask a friend, neighbour or relation… 
To check you’re dead before your cremation!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Not up to much today. Although having said that, as much as I struggled to get the Ode done, and it took me hours, I still managed to glean some pleasure out of it. I’ve got to cope without Carer Joe now. Well, I say that, he has got a call on Monday, sadly, it will be his last one. I’m scared and worried about how I’ll cope without him. He’s saved the day so many times for me, often several times a week!
My fear is getting at me. I can’t help it.

The nocturnal pouch is still attached and shows the red foot, not the white one. Hehe! At least the oedema swelling on top[ of both feet had died down a little while I’d got my feet up. I fell asleep early, but woke up and got up in a semi-confused state, suspecting I’d just had a seizure. Judging by my concentration and balance, they are all over the place.

Took this view from the kitchenette. I then 
decided to sit down, as my balance was not good, and spent hours updating yesterday’s blog.

Carer Mampreet arrived. She administered the medications and applied some cream to the hand wound and the tops of the feet, which were filling up with liquid again. Then she Germolened the shaving scar on the back of my neck. Bless her!
Manpreet took this photo of a hand-wound for me. She used the barrier cream. The photo used in the Ode, the very poor, out-of-balance one, I took earlier. When Shaking Shaun was visiting me.

Back onto the computer and made a dubious start on this blog. Creating the graphics, despite CorelDRAW warning me that it would need to be updated to save any work to the new version. Somehow, I managed to get it to work. I cannot recall what I did, I just pray I can do it again in the morning session. A call from Carer Joe would have been invaluable!

I went to make a mug of tea, my first one of the day. And, I’d been up for nearly five hours already. I’ll pay for this later on, big time.

The Iceland stores order arrived. The driver kindly put them in a line, blocking the doorway, so I could move one at a time. I took some pictures of the food bits, but without the SD card in the camera. Humph! Obtaining the photo of the carriers is another aspect of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, which also includes hobgoblins, spectres, gnomes, phantoms, grotesque succubi, extraterrestrials, ectoplasm, and spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, concentration, and logicality were already well on the wane. 

The tea had gone cold, so I hobbled to the kitchen to make another brew of Co-Op 99 tea. Taking the above snap of my feet & legs, I noticed that they were even more pronouncedly white on the left and red on the right. The oedema fluid had filled the top and bottom of the right foot, making walking more difficult again. Oh, and painful too!

Made a brew and back to the blogging.

Started making Templates for July.

I assume it was, anyway, that kept blurring my eyesight so much that I had to give up on blogging. These ‘Blur’ periods have been lasting for a few minutes at most, then the vision clears again. Not this time; I was still struggling when making the meal, after switching to reading glasses.

Making and prepping the meal was spoiled and harassed by the arrival of . I dropped the knife three times. Slicing the tomatoes resulted in a cut on a fingernail. Burnt my hand, right on the wound from trapping it in the drawer. Finally, I got it made up, photographed it, and settled down to eat it. Which was another farce. Showed up, and the tray plopped onto the floor, distributing various parts of the meal on the carpet! I discovered a partially eaten piece of sausage on the ottoman in the morning.
I salvaged some of it and still enjoyed it.

The cleaning up of the mess after dining was not appreciated at all. , , , ,
and were amongst the ailments that were displeased with all the bending down I had to do. Only the innards that had just had their hunger satisfied didn’t complain. I was in such agony in so many areas of my body.
As I climbed into the hospital bed, there were so many aches and twinges, then (Hah!), joined in the onslaught!
It took me hours to fall asleep. The primary reason is the pain, obviously. But these were exacerbated by and   that I had to get out of bed so often. As I recall, to check that the taps were not left running? Had I locked the flat door? Then I realised that I’d forgot to ask the Carer to fit the nocturnal catheter bag. The fight to get out of bed and the bending down again to find and fit the night bag prompted her to increase the level and potency of her attacks. I had to get up about five times from the hospital bed. Each one was painful, especially under the feet, as I had to walk on the Oedema fluid-filled feet. I gave up, and got into the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, eyesore-horrendously grungy, disease-fermenting second-hand, beige-coloured, £300, second-hand charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. Thankfully, I had taken a rest, but I was replaced with worrying about how I’m going to manage without Carer Joe.

Sleep turned into a fantasy. I sat there and stewed in my pathetic self-pity, until my leg fell off the chair my feet were resting on, to ease the Oedema problem. That extra bit of pain was enough for to come overhead, and sink into my psyche. So, virtually no sleep. 05:30hrs:  Somehow, I forced myself up to start the day with a gloom that had never been with me before.
And the Whoopsies began again…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I CAN DO WITHOUT DAYS LIKE THIS!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –